


Renegade

by korik



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types, Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Coming up with Pern names for decidedly un-Pernese names, Crossover, F/M, Gen, I am unexciting, Nick and Maria are a convenience thing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other characters will appear, Surrogates are used, Tags May Change, To Be Continued, Watch me screw with sexual dimorphism, and non-het centric, and their human partners don't always like it, dragon sex causes issues, my notes on this are much more gay, probably going to end up being the most hetcentric fic, problems with gender roles, still deciding on what to do with the gods, the worst and best pasttime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korik/pseuds/korik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watch me change everything or even continue this. I kind of want to, Dragonriders of Pern was one of my first fandoms as a kid, and currently it is Buckynat Week so this just sort of happened. Anyone want me to continue?</p><p>Anyway, this is a pretty basic beginning as I figure out what to do with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Break in

 

The yowling sound was brief with the shattering of the shells, briefly breaking through the hum and vibrating that caused the flesh to bump and hiss, the sand like slow moving water, delicate feet raising and falling with erratic rhythms. The air waved and flickered, all eyes watching, dragon multifaceted eyes gleaming, and human - pale, delicate - peering from arrested masks alike.

Across the floor the hopefuls thronged, dancing to the cracking, rocking eggs with their swirling surfaces, an insane cacophony of color, loose clothing to combat the heat, but sweat still streamed over the flushed faces, the anxiety palpable, mirroring the dry mouths that gaped and gulped air - _hatch, hatch! Pick me, please, by the first egg, please, me…_

She darted before the pack of girls, slithering through the sands like it was a second home, careful to watch the pacing mother dragon, a brilliant queen she knew was called _Illyiath_ , with golden tendons and flashing claws to frighten them off from her precious eggs.

Natasha, however, would not flinch, would not stray. She had been dragged to this event, to the preparation, to the demand that all available be present, seeing in the great arena above the figures who watched and waited, saw the subtle wave of her friend, his thrill her motivation.

_'Together,' his voice was hot against her neck, the indentions and heavy lines of threadscore running down his neck, spider webs arching over his collarbone to his covered arm, 'I want to be with you in the Weyr, Nat, please promise me you'll try at the very least.'_

_She tried to laugh, her breath shallow at the shudder that crawled up her spine as his rough fingertips brushed across it. ‘You’re just afraid you’ll lose without me again -‘_

The world made of eyes swiveled, and her thoughts returned to the egg at hand, the great, unmoving egg.

A line of worry creased her brow, reflected in the faces of those who had been in the Weyrs longer than many of the other girls here. Not a sound came from it, this golden-rosy colored egg with it’s bottom ghosted in blacks and greys that wound up to the other colors.

Illyiath seemed unconcerned by the lack of motion, her great head, slender and affable, turning this way and that before a slow, experimental _clack_ of her scythe like claws dancing over the hard shell.

Nat had to wonder, _Too hard?_

The rapping sound sounded out again as the mighty claws seemed to search, but muffled -

The egg exploded. Shards of shell nearly hit the nearest girl, and Nat felt the warm goo splatter on her face and bare toes.

A gasp, several Weyrfolk pointing, stunned.

The rippling, oozing hide of the upturned baby was closer to red than gold, and seemed dull by comparison to its mother who seemed to care little for the crowd and its collective thoughts and obnoxious noises, nosing the newborn dragonet, the broad tongue laving over its shivering backside.

The girls hesitated, looking one to another for guidance, but Nat, ignoring the Queen and the voices that flickered through the throng gathered, the pleasant humming that merely continued like one unbroken chorus of _joy_ , had eyes only for the tangled mop of overdeveloped limbs and half bent paper-like wings, staring unafraid into the bright, blinking eyes with their golden hue swarming to bronze. She stepped closer, her burning soles finding brief relief on the fluid from the broken egg.

The beast opened its mouth, the throat convulsing as its wrists clenched and claws groped at the air -

The murmuring was worse.

A mute?

To Nat, however, the blossom of _sound_ was indescribable, something to be only felt as it tickled her senses, warm and full of life, wriggling past her defenses and walls to speak with a harmonizing voice that echoed to the very tips of her fingers.

_I am Vishdaath._

To her knees, like the repetition of a book slowly turning its pages, she sank, gathering the dark gold to her chest, feeling the fluttering of its heart against her own.

_I am home._


	2. Not My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more into a bit of the politics behind weyrs (at least what I can remember) and Nat is having none of it.

Her own face flushed hotly, but despite the urge to raise her fist, turn on her heel and leaving, she remained where she was in the open breeze of the window, steady and strong at the glowering expression of the Weyrleader before her, careful not to mirror his scowl, taking to counting the repeating detailing of the doublet he wore.

His name was Ni'las, and threadscore had long ago made one eye useless, the rest of his mostly shaven face kept sharp, militant, the beard on his face only adding to his air and fondness for sharp lines. "Eventually another Weyr will be necessary, and you'll be the Weyrwoman to go with it, Natasha, and don't give me that."

Her brow could not help but to rise, and she wound her sleeves up, the damp heat of the growing summer already making her sweat. "What?"

"That look, I know what that look means."

She resisted derisively snorting, "I don't think so, not this time," but she waved off the glare he shot at her, tapping her boot toe into the hardwood beneath them, "You know Weyr business isn't mine; I _kill_ people, I find information out on the Lord and Lady Holdmasters to keep them in line; I don't _do_ Weyrs."

There was a soft derisive sense of sadness that permeated the back of her mind, and she silently amended to the new gold dragonet - _'_ _Except you, love.'_ It was a new experience, to have someone else so intimately in her head, sharing her thoughts that normally she barely shared with herself, the tiny details she took in from each encounter like the worn lines of the Weyrleader's face and gloves, the hints that he'd been pulling and tugging at that clipped beard of his, and more often than he'd admit out loud to anyone else.

The Weyrleader continued to study her, however, obviously digesting more what she didn't say that what she had, allowing her to continue, and perfectly unaware but probably all too familiar with the soft commentary a bonded dragon had on the conversation.

"You know the position I am in, _thread fall_ , you yourself did it before stumbling into your own dragon - " she couldn't help but notice the flicker of happiness that danced in his usually unreadable expression, and her words adjusted accordingly - "that Bronze bag of yours." She didn't let him interrupt though his mouth opened, pressing forward, "I understand your concern, sir, but I really don't think I'm the one for your job, anywhere. And really, why are _you_ talking to me about this, and not Maria, she's the Weyrwoman here, and you're just lucky she hasn't kicked you out yet." She thought about mentioning their penchant for finding other partners when it was time for their gold and bronze, Sildreth and Greth respectively,  to Fly, but she kept her mouth shut, feeling the faint curiosity of the youngling patter through her mind.

For a moment she thought Ni'las was going to stride into her space, shout maybe, threaten to hit her, particularly with the way his shoulders stiffened and the corners of his mouth turned decidedly downwards, but she had brought out a point, and he knew better. They both did. If anything, it was strange but it wasn't the first time she had seen the two be at odds with one another, following each others lead but still capable of questioning motivations, and downright refusing at times to do anything.

"The Barnes kid thinks you can do it, hell, I do if we get right down to the point, but the truth is very clear at this point - gold queens are too few, and the thread falls hard and fast; it doesn't care if you want to play or not. I do. _We do_." His hand was careful, contemplative on the wooden table carefully crafted for this particular room of his, the soft _hiss_ of his gloves therapeutic on the darkened, treated surface. He scooted the chair out, moving to rest back into the thinned, flattened cushions, fingers momentarily steepling as he regarded her from the self made barricade. "There are a handful of others who would go with you, and _will_ go with you when Vishdaath is old enough and has been Flown, but not before her first clutch is laid."

She tried not to scowl, but failed this time, leaning a hand onto her hip for a moment of support. "You've already begun work on a Weyr." The anger was ripe, and damnit, she was frustrated. "When was I _supposed_ to know?"

He didn't look particularly happy about it himself, but it was business, and not personal reasons that had kept him from opening his mouth about it. "When it was necessary, Natasha, and now you needed to know."

She kept the comment about keeping her in line, and more decisively focused on the looming job ahead now that she had impressed a gold to herself. She could handle changes, that was the way of things, but she had never, ever, wanted to get involved in the ins and outs of a Weyr. Not the responsibilities or the lives, let alone the demands for the care of the dragons and - _gods_ , the _expected_ sex and demanded offspring. She wasn't ready for that either, no matter who her partner was. It was why at first she had fought so hard to avoid the Candidacy, and probably why she had also failed at it as well.

She nodded her head at him and let her eyes gaze to look out the window, catching the sharp darts of color, the wild and probably bonded firelizards, that swam through the heated air. Later she would let herself get angry, later. Right now she just wanted a moment to breathe.


End file.
